


Bonding Time

by VampiricFaith



Category: JoJo no Kimyouna Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Emotional incest?, Gay Sex, Guro, M/M, Necrophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-05
Updated: 2012-04-05
Packaged: 2017-11-04 23:46:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampiricFaith/pseuds/VampiricFaith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the bottom of the ocean, Dio only has one friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bonding Time

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JONATHAN JOESTAR
> 
> I MADE YOU THIS TERRIBLE PRESENT
> 
> (posted late as I was busy dicking around with the boyfriend and looking at lolita clothes with my sister. Sorry, Jon!)
> 
> Written for Jonathan Joestar's birthday, 4 April.

“Jonathan, I need you to stop this immediately. This silent treatment’s getting to be quite childish, wouldn’t you agree?” It had only been a few days, but already Dio was forgetting what it was like to hear someone else speak, and listlessly, he ran his fingers through Jonathan’s hair, staring at the ceiling. The pressure from the water at the bottom of the ocean was getting to be a bit intolerable. His mind was starting to go from it all.

At least he had Jonathan. He’d loathed his presence for so many years, doing unspeakable things- burning Jonathan’s beloved dog alive, working on killing his father, among other travesties that grew worse and worse as time progressed, the pinnacle of them being seen here. Dio sat there in the wreckage of a cruise liner, his adoptive brother’s head crooked up in his arm, his own head fused to what was mere days ago Jonathan’s body.

It took some getting used to, but Dio learned the intimacies of Jonathan’s body quite quickly. He’d felt his fingers through the dark auburn hair on his legs, and had netting his fingers through the tuft of pubic hair. Thoroughly he’d felt his broad chest, the thick, hefty arms, and the strong, sinuous bulk of the powerful calves and thighs. He’d nipped at the tender flesh on his hands, traced both palms up and down his inner thighs, and touched upon Jonathan’s cock.

No, his cock.

No, _their_ cock.

He’d walked through the ship in a slow-motioned crawl, the heaviness of the water making everything progress as if in a dream. The fine clothing Jonathan had been wearing was now left in some random spot on the ship in lieu of increasing mobility. Nude, Jonathan’s head held tight in his arms, Dio had ran through the halls, testing the limits of his new form. Finally, he could take no more, and he laid without a stitch on one of the beds in a guest room, crushed beneath the weight of the ocean, with Jonathan likewise crushed in his arms. The body didn’t wear out easily; he couldn’t help but ponder for several long hours after how much of it was Jonathan, and how much was his own vampirism. It was, regardless, impressive.

It wasn’t like he’d never admired Jonathan’s body. Their relationship was always a strange one, strained and tense; even after they’d become friends in their teenage years, there had been a sense of rivalry in their comradery. But nothing could change the fact that yes, Jonathan was physically pleasant.

“Were you ever attracted to me, Jojo?” Dio asked, holding Jonathan’s head up before him, looking into the eyes that now stared ever forward. “Because I was certainly attracted to you.”

Jonathan’s mouth hung open loose and he failed to answer, making that same expressionless face he had been for what felt like an eternity.

Dio stared back, and barely smiled. Actually, it seemed better, in a sense, that Jonathan didn’t answer him now. His thumb brushed the other’s cheek, and his tongue dotted his lip, while a wicked thought came into his mind. It wasn’t as if Jonathan could object, and he had all the time in the world here, lost to the world with him. It dawned on him then: Jonathan _wouldn’t_ object. He wouldn’t struggle.

Dio’s lips crushed against the other’s as he held Jonathan’s disconnected skull in place. Parting his mouth open, his tongue drifted out, sliding through the already parted lips of his adoptive brother’s, and their tongues intertwined. He couldn’t mind the coldness, nor the stillness, of the dead flesh, moaning, blissful. One hand wove through the thick brown locks, clutching tight to Jonathan’s skull, and Dio gave a groan, placing sweet kiss after kiss. He whispered Jonathan’s name. Wry, he pondered how it would have been if only Jonathan had had his first kiss stolen by the same mouth that had stolen Erina’s.

Perhaps Jonathan wouldn’t have been such a sad little man then.

His arms flowed through the water as he moved, shifting; Jonathan’s head rested on the pillows now, and Dio sat up, standing upon his knees. His fingers stroked down his stomach, tracing the chiseled muscles, running through the trail leading down to his cock. “You never understood, did you, Jonathan? You always were a fool.” Fingers encircled his new cock, one that he’d not quite gotten used to yet. It was so different from his own: a new length, thickness, shape, and the foreskin was shaped differently, a peek of his cockhead visible under it whereas his own had extended past. It was so arousing to simply hold it and touch it. He tugged upon it, eyes never leaving Jonathan’s as it grew hard. “You wretched thing,” he said, muttering as he milked slowly up and down thick shaft. “Hiding such a nice prick as this from me. So selfish. Didn’t your father ever teach you to share?”

He smirked, titillated; this was the same cock that had certainly been buried in Erina recently, on her and Jonathan’s wedding night. One hand reached forward and he cradled Jonathan’s head in the palm; leaning in, Dio used his free hand to guide the tip, wedging it in between the other man’s lips, and he pushed forward, hardly thinking as he plunged it in.

Dio had run out of breath days ago, his opened mouth not producing anything as he grunted and groaned, but his motioned churned up bubbles as he moved in the water, thrusting into the head, using it as a toy. 

One hand grabbed to the headboard to stabilize himself, and he laid Jonathan’s head down tenderly onto the pillows, holding it in his other palm; he gazed down at the pink lips parting around his erection. With each thrust, he moved deeper, gliding over the lifeless, velvety tongue; Dio’s shaft was scraped by his brother’s teeth, and his head threw back, hair fluttering weightless in the water as it occurred to him that Jonathan’s dick was lodged deep into his own mouth. His cock- their cock- gave quite the leap at the thought.

“How does that feel, Jojo?” The blunt head of his prick pressed at the back of Jonathan’s throat, and it only took a slight bit of pressure to penetrate it. Usually, one’s throat would ripple about it; gagging was likely, and even if not, the powerful muscles would contract as the neck made room, swallowing it down, but muscle didn’t work in death. It was tight, constricting, but smooth.

Shifting back, Dio released the headboard, falling free back in the bed; he collapsed on his back, clutching Jonathan’s disembodied head close until it was flush against his root, the nose buried into his thick pubic hair. A chill struck against the exposed tip of his cock, and Dio propped himself up on one elbow to see.

He’d pushed his way through the esophagus, his cock pushed out the severed end, exposed to the water all about them; quickly, he had to feel the healing wound on his neck, tracing his fingers over the spot where he’d fused to his rival’s body. His eyes closing, he took a deep breath, continuing on. Both hands gripped on Jonathan’s skull now, and he rocked his hips, thrusting into the open mouth; he drew in and out of the throat’s tube, as if penetrating a forbidden hole over and over again. “Jonathan… J-Jonathan…” Teeth gritted, Dio grumbled, his movements becoming faster as he reached his peak. With one final grunt, he was done, spurting without any care; eyes drawing open, he pulled out.

His flaccid prick fell from Jonathan’s lips, and he shut the jaw, and inspected the head for damage, finding it no worse than before; cracking a smile, that was confirmation that this could, and would, be done again. Tilting the head back, Dio watched, fascinated, as his own semen fluttered from the loose neck, slipping pearl white through the water, floating before them.

Dio gave him one more kiss, and settled into the pillows; Jonathan’s head then found its way to a crook in Dio’s arm, held there like a child would hold their teddy at night. “See… We can get along, Jonathan.” he said, eyes shutting as he laid to rest. After all, it wasn’t very likely that they were ever going to fight again.

Dio ruminated as he allowed himself to drift off into sleep on the subject of how Jonathan was such a giving lover.


End file.
